It was another frightening scene in a time of too many daunting, hold-your-breath moments in hockey.

George Parros was already in the penalty box on Saturday night, his eyes glassy, his condition wobbly. And as the game officials escorted him out of the box, guiding him for medical attention after being knocked silly by a wild haymaker thrown by Eric Boulton of the Islanders, a single thought overwhelmed me.

Will we ever see Parros again in a National Hockey League game?

And if so, why?

In this season gone wrong for the career tough guy, Parros has played nine games for the Montreal Canadiens, just more than 35 minutes of ice time and fought five times. Twice he has been helped off the ice, his condition now, and for the future, to be determined.

The argument now — pro-fighting in hockey, anti-fighting, whatever your belief happens to be — has progressed to take on new dimensions with every personal story of difficulty being told, with every new incident.

It really shouldn’t matter what side you’re on anymore or where your politics may be — unless you’re myopic in the way 79-year-old Don Cherry seems to be, ignoring the science and the casualties in the name of tradition — because the issue seems far less about hockey, the game, and much more about the human condition.

It isn’t simply connecting the dots anymore, from fighting to concussions to depression to pill-taking to brain damage to alcoholism to dementia to early death.

It isn’t that simple or that easy.

But it is too many people now. It is too many lives altered, too many names we know and remember, too many lives ended early or ruined.

All in the name of sport and entertainment — the worst part being almost all of it is preventable.

The continuing human tragedy that surrounds long-term fighting in hockey needs to end.

It’s not about the game, or policing the rats, or staged fights or combustion fights or any of the usual arguments why fighting belongs or doesn’t belong in hockey.

It’s beyond the game, now. It’s about people. People we know. People we care for. Fathers. Sons. Family people. Too many people are being hurt too often in hockey fights. Hurt in the short term. Damaged in the long term.

Regularly, hockey fighters are suffering brain injuries, the extent of which we are just beginning to understand, the window just opening ever slightly to those acting as protectors and ending up as victims.

All of this as the NHL grasps tightly to the unspoken belief that violence sells its sport — especially in America. Privately, the NHL has been afraid of the consequences of eliminating fighting in hockey, not because the game can’t go on without it — we have all kinds of evidence it can — but because it worries about the residual effect on their overall business.

As commissioner, Gary Bettman has done remarkable work with the business of hockey, even with his spotty record of losing games to lockout. The business has never been bigger, richer, stronger.

And what better time than this for Bettman to make the kind of uncomfortable, controversial, difficult-to-sell stand, all in the name of human decency?

Bettman has the strength and the portfolio to eliminate fighting in hockey. What he has never demonstrated in any way is a willingness to do so.

And there was Parros on Saturday night, when the punch snapped his head back, clearly unable to respond properly, not sure where he was, again off-balance. How many concussions is that now, at age 33, after more than 200 professional fights?

How can the Canadiens, in good conscience, put him on the ice again? I tried to talk to general manager Marc Bergevin about this. An interview, the Canadiens said, couldn’t be arranged.

How can any of the NHL so-called tough guys throw a punch at him and not worry about the consequences?

Can anyone tell us whether Parros, Princeton-educated, once voted one of the 20 smartest athletes in professional sports, will be able to think clearly in his 40s? Or will the pounding on his brain make him another victim of chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), which shrinks the brain and brings on early dementia?

This shouldn’t be about any lawsuits, although the NHL needs to be concerned after the price the National Football League will pay out to its former players from a class action suit. This shouldn’t be about who knew what, when? This should be about doing the right thing, protecting players when it’s clear they are unable to protect themselves. This should be a joint determination between the players and owners: The same number of players will still be employed in the NHL. Only the job description, for some, will differ.

And you must take that stand now, not because it makes the game better, but because you don’t want to read any more about Gino Odjick or Scott Parker or all of those who have yet to make their stories public. This is a social issue now. This is about finally doing what’s right.

The recent tale of Odjick was troubling enough. Since retiring from hockey in 2002, he has spent 32 months in hospital. That’s almost three years. Some of it for post-concussion symptoms, much of it for mental issues. To those who know Odjick, his confusion and difficulty has been evident.

When former NHL enforcers Wade Belak, Derek Boogaard and Rick Rypien all died in the summer of 2011, the NHL promised to investigate the deaths of three young men, two of whom were still active as players. The investigation, if it was ever carried out, was never made public. When asked about the investigation, the NHL claims it is a private matter.

All three deaths, in different ways, were linked to depression, drug usage, alcohol and possible suicide. The scorecard of victims, both living and gone, families destroyed, legacies ruined, is far too deep.

In his expose of former Avalanche tough guy Scott Parker in the Denver Post, Adrian Dater wrote: “Scott Parker lies in bed, dreading what might come next. Soon after awakening, his ears ring so loud they seem like the equivalent of a hundred fire alarms. Waves of nausea wash over him until he vomits. His eyes glaze over.

“One of the toughest men to ever play in the NHL is knocked out, not from an opponent’s punch, but from simply getting out of bed.”

How many Scott Parkers are out there, suffering in silence, having fought one fight too many, having taken one more punch than was necessary?

Parker, like Parros, like Odjick, like Boogaard, fought hundreds of times through junior hockey, the minor leagues and eventually the NHL. It was their way of making it. Maybe the only way.

But we know differently now from when Reggie Fleming fought in the 1960s. Fleming was 5-foot-10, 190 pounds. The heavyweight champion of hockey that decade, John Ferguson, weighed 178 pounds when he played for the Montreal Canadiens.

George Parros is 6-foot-5, 228. Derek Boogaard was 6-foot-7, 258. The danger of fighting has never been more apparent. The time to advocate change is now.

As Advertised in the Winnipeg SUN

It's time to make a stand against fighting in the NHL

It was another frightening scene in a time of too many daunting, hold-your-breath moments in hockey.

George Parros was already in the penalty box on Saturday night, his eyes glassy, his condition wobbly. And as the game officials escorted him out of the box, guiding him for medical attention after being knocked silly by a wild haymaker thrown by Eric Boulton of the Islanders, a single thought overwhelmed me.

Will we ever see Parros again in a National Hockey League game?

And if so, why?

In this season gone wrong for the career tough guy, Parros has played nine games for the Montreal Canadiens, just more than 35 minutes of ice time and fought five times. Twice he has been helped off the ice, his condition now, and for the future, to be determined.

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